Read Ebook: Peggy Goes Straw Hat by Hughes Virginia Leone Sergio Illustrator Illustrator

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 961 lines and 44519 words, and 20 pages

PEGGY GOES STRAW HAT

I The Arrival

Eight hours after leaving New York City, the rickety old Pathways Bus lurched to a bouncing halt in a small Adirondack mountain town. Peggy Lane rose from her seat and somewhat shakily managed to collect her handbag, a small suitcase, a hatbox, two coats, and her precious tin make-up kit.

"I wonder if I really look like an actress or more like a walking luggage rack?" she thought excitedly as she stepped down from the bus. The scene that greeted her was breath-taking; Peggy gasped aloud with delight. Before her, Lake Kenabeek lay gleaming like a jewel in the afternoon sun. Pine trees rose everywhere and although it was summer there was a delicious nip and tang in the air. Peggy's heart raced with eagerness and the familiar nervous anticipation she always felt when approaching something new. She had been hired as resident ing?nue for eight wonderful weeks with her first summer stock company. Each week she would be playing a different part, gaining invaluable experience, and learning new phases of life backstage.

"And I got the job all on my own!" Peggy thought exultantly. "Just by reading for the producers! That must mean something--at least, it means that I'm really a professional actress now and don't have to depend on friends and 'contacts' for my work!" She smiled happily, taking a deep breath of the fragrant, pine-scented air.

"Miss Lane?" A voice interrupted Peggy's thoughts. She turned and saw a spectacled, studious-looking boy about seventeen who was wearing dungarees and a paint-smeared shirt. Offering her a slightly stained hand, he grinned shyly. "Scene paint," he explained, "but it's clean."

Peggy could hardly shake his hand, laden down as she was, and the boy stammered with embarrassment. "Oh, I'm so sorry--I was so busy looking at you, I didn't notice." He relieved her of some of her bags, giving her a frankly admiring stare. "You sure look like a good ing?nue!"

"I do?" Peggy beamed.

"Just what I had in mind." He smiled, taking in Peggy's trim little figure, dark chestnut hair and fresh, mobile face. "I'm Michael Miller, and I have the jeep waiting to take you to your hotel."

The jeep had been painted bright blue with an eye-catching sign on the hood. Kenabeek Summer Theater, it proclaimed in large white letters.

"Good advertising," Michael confided as they deposited Peggy's bags in the rear. "But then, you're not bad advertising either!" He nodded in the direction of a few bystanders who were casting curious glances at Peggy. Peggy smiled back at the townspeople, and as she climbed into the front seat, her nervousness unexpectedly dropped away. She was really here at last, she realized, an actress with a season's contract--and suddenly she felt very professional.

As they drove carefully up the winding mountain road, Peggy discovered that Michael was one of three local boys who were to work as apprentices--helping the scene designer, doing odd chores, and playing small parts when needed. Michael's father was Howard Miller, a retired theater man, who was to do all the older character parts during the season.

"Oh, I've heard of him!" Peggy exclaimed. "He's supposed to be a wonderful actor, and we're lucky to have him. You know how hard it is to get good character men for stock. Michael," she went on eagerly, "do you think the theater will be a success?"

Michael considered a moment. "I don't honestly know," he replied thoughtfully. "This is a very small town, and actually we don't have a large enough population to carry a summer theater all on our own. But one of the ideas behind this venture is to bring in more summer resort business."

Peggy nodded. She knew that Richard Wallace, one of the two young producers, was a resident of Lake Kenabeek, and wanted to help improve his town--both culturally and financially.

"Of course Richard's Aunt Hetty is vice-president of the Chamber of Commerce," Michael continued, "and the Chamber of Commerce put up half the financial backing for the theater. So we do have solid support there. But some people here resisted the idea of a group of actors--you know, they think that actors are a strange, Bohemian breed--" He glanced at Peggy and laughed. "Bohemian, huh! All they need is to take one look at you, or any of the other actors who have come up from New York."

Peggy smiled gratefully. She knew that a lot of people didn't realize what honest, hard work the theater could be. But obviously this intelligent young boy had a deep feeling for the profession and knew that an actress' life wasn't only curtain calls and bouquets after the performance.

"Yes, we do have a lovely group of people," Peggy agreed earnestly. She had met most of them in New York during the tryouts and been impressed, not only by their acting ability, but by their responsible and intelligent attitude. "And we have a really good director, wonderful plays, and at least half the town is behind us. That should be enough if we work hard!" she concluded with a twinkle.

Michael turned from the twisting, ribbonlike shore line and drew up in front of a large, old-fashioned, rustic building. "Here we are," he announced grandly, "Kenabeek Inn! But you're not in the main building; your company is staying in the annex."

Peggy followed him around the side of the inn, down a little path fringed with fir trees. In a small clearing, well away from the kitchen noises issuing from the rear of the inn, Peggy saw a tiny, two-story building. There was a roofed-over patio outside with two sofas, some chairs, and a table on which stood a hot plate and stacked cups and saucers. Peggy smiled to herself, recognizing the sure sign of an actors' residence--coffee, coffee, and more coffee.

Rita Stevens came bursting out of the door, a radiant smile transforming her rather plain features. "Margaret, 'Peggy' Lane--Star of Stage, Screen, Radio, Television, and Summer Stock! Welcome!" she cried, running up and giving Peggy a hug.

They grinned at each other happily. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" Rita bubbled. "I've been positively frantic for some female company around here. We've been up for three days and Gus has spent every single minute at the theater--"

Rita was married to Gus Stevens, the scene designer--a lucky combination for the company. Although young, Rita had one of those ageless faces and a maturity which made her a perfect character woman. Peggy had liked her the instant they met at the readings in New York.

"No women?" Peggy asked, "Hasn't Alison Lord arrived yet?"

"Oh, no, my deah," Rita intoned in a stagy accent. "No, our leading lady is being flown up in someone's private plane and isn't expected until tomorrow morning." She waved a hand airily, imitating perfectly a prima donna.

"Oh, no!" Michael grimaced in disgust. "Is she really like that?"

"No, Mike," Peggy said with a laugh, "she's really quite friendly and nice--and a very good actress. Just a little theatrical, but I'm sure you'll like her."

"Well, I hope so," Michael said, obviously still doubtful. "Look, I've got to scoot back to the theater. May I leave your things here, Peggy?"

"Oh, I'll take them, Mike." Rita grabbed some of Peggy's luggage and started up the stairs of the little house. "See you later, Mike."

"And thanks for the ride and everything," Peggy called after him.

"He's such a sweet kid," Rita commented as they climbed. "A wonderful help to Gus--I have a feeling Michael may make this business his life work. Here's where you live, Peggy!"

They stepped into a tiny white room, sparsely furnished with only a day bed, a large bureau, a folding screen, straight chair, and a bedside table.

"The manager of the inn must know something about summer stock companies," Rita observed ruefully. "Obviously he has a good idea of just how much time we'll be spending in our rooms."

Peggy looked at her questioningly and Rita laughed. "It's your first season, I know--but just you wait and see!"

"My trunk!" Peggy interrupted with a sudden disturbing thought. "I sent it ahead by Railway Express. Hasn't it come?"

"Right here, madame." Rita folded back the screen and revealed Peggy's large, black wardrobe trunk, which was somewhat dented and worn, parts of old labels still sticking to it here and there. "You know, for a girl who hasn't done stock before, or been on the road, this trunk is really strange. What did you do?" she asked with a teasing smile. "Stick on labels, and tear them off, and then jump up and down on it wielding a hammer?"

Peggy hooted. "Rita Stevens, you have a very suspicious mind! I want you to know that this trunk belonged to a friend of my father's--a wonderful woman who was in the theater years ago." Peggy's face softened wistfully. "And I imagine that this battered old trunk has seen more drama--on stage and off--than we can even imagine."

The girls looked at it thoughtfully, a picture of the old, romantic days of the theater--great plays, great producers, great stars--all the golden history of the stage firing their imagination.

Peggy broke the spell, "Well, anyway, May Berriman gave it to me. She runs the rooming house where I live in New York, you know. And believe me, I'm grateful! Besides needing a trunk, I think of it as a symbol of good luck. Some time soon, Rita, would you mind taking a look at my wardrobe? I think I brought enough, but I'd like to be sure."

"I'd love to," Rita said. "But now let me show you where everything is in our little annex, and then you'd better rest awhile. I'm sure you're tired, and we have a company call tonight."

Alison Lord would be in the room across the hall from Peggy. Rita and Gus were also upstairs, on the opposite side of the house. Danny Dunn, Chris Hill and Chuck Crosby, the director, were all downstairs. The patio was community property for coffee, line rehearsals, and just plain relaxation. It seemed like a good arrangement. Rita showed Peggy where she could shower and freshen up and said she would call her in time for dinner.

But Peggy was too keyed up to take a real nap. She sat on the edge of her bed, thinking of all the steps that had led her here, to this place, at this time. Her love of acting, the school plays, the productions in college, coming to New York, the long, hard work at the Dramatic Academy and in the Penthouse Theater. She was grateful for a private room where she could be quiet and think.

Peggy promised herself to write them good long letters as soon as possible. And she should write to May Berriman, and to her housemate in New York, Amy Preston. Well, there was a lot to do--and a lot ahead. Peggy sighed and opened a suitcase to change into something fresh for the evening.

After dinner, Peggy, Rita, and her young husband, Gus, walked up the road to the theater. Gus had joined them for dinner in the little roadside restaurant where the cast had made arrangements for meals at a percentage off the regular cost.

"Mrs. Brady, who runs the place, is anxious to do all she can for the theater," Rita explained.

"To say nothing of the extra customers she hopes to attract by having real actors in her dining room," Gus added. "Not that I'm a candidate for glamour, you understand--"

The girls laughed. Gus had hastily donned a clean shirt and a fresh pair of blue jeans, but the unmistakable signs of sheer hard work still showed on his pleasant, tanned face.

Rita squeezed his hand affectionately as they hurried up the road. "I do wish you'd let up a little," she said. "After all, we do have nine days before opening."

"And it's going to take every minute!" Gus nodded emphatically. "You haven't seen the auditorium yet, have you, Peggy?"

"No, I haven't. You know," Peggy confessed, "I was really disappointed when I learned that we were playing in the high school. I had visions of a rustic barn with candlelight, bats in the wings and mice for rehearsals--"

"There is one." Gus chuckled warmly. "Aunt Hetty has a barn that we can remodel next summer if this season is a success. But we couldn't afford to do it this year. It's better to rent the school and see what happens. If it bothers you, Peggy," he added, looking at her with amusement, "hold on to the thought that we're helping education! We are, too. The school needs the money."

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet